Week 1.

After 12 short months in Chattanooga, we packed our bags and headed to Charlotte. We knew no one (other than our Realtors), had no idea where the nearest Target was, and really weren’t sure how to find the nearest hospital. But we did it. We put on our big girl pants (er, boy pants for the husband) and made the move. A move neither of us saw coming. And one that, for the longest time, my husband was sure he didn’t want. See, Chattanooga was “home”. No, it wasn’t where either of us grew up. However, it was where we saw ourselves retiring. After raising our own family, it was where we saw our grandchildren coming to visit. It was well within our comfort zone of our families. It was that perfect small town/moderate city combination. It was our perfect southern-roots city. But alas, it was not meant to be. When the current economy says “move”, you move. When your big boss likes you and requests a relocation, you relocate. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

So, here we are. One week in and only moderately stressed. Last week was another story. By Wednesday (day 2 for those that are counting), I was in full panic attack mode. Sitting in line to pick up my five-year-old from his first day at a new school, I was somewhere between hyperventilating and throwing up. I wasn’t sure what would happen first, and what my poor 3-year-old would think sitting in the back seat. Poor guy had to deal with me all week. Just the two of us. Thankfully, he’s an easy-going kid. Ha! But we’ve survived! I’m thankful that first week is behind us. I’m not sure it will be smooth sailing from here on out, but at least the house is somewhat organized. We all have clean clothes. And we all have toilet paper in our respective bathrooms. Oh, and food. There is finally food in the pantry. Here’s to next week… ;)